


You found me in the darkness

by Miimiijay



Category: Atlantis (UK TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 21:37:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3952654
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miimiijay/pseuds/Miimiijay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They had been warned that the knowledge of his mother would blacken his heart. None of them could have foretold the damage that would go in noticed. </p>
<p>Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back - Plato</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rated M for upcoming chapters.

.

\--------  
The crows circled above him, clouds and smoke obscured the colour of the sky.

"Wake up Jason. You must wake up. They're coming. Please Jason, run!"

He sat bolt upright, in the forest, Hercules and Pythagoras tending to the fire a stones throw away. Ariadne had been distant since they had fled once more from the city. Since she had resigned herself that they had to go to colchis. To Medea.

Medea. The voice in the dream had to be hers. Her ability to find him, his mind, no matter the distance and always leading him away from danger. In his gut he wanted to trust her. But knowing his friends, and his wife, the way he did they would not accept the warning from her. 

He stood, packing his meagre things up as he went around the camp. 

"Hercules we need to go. Now Hercules." The larger man looked into the flame they'd only recently managed to get strong. They knew better than to argue with him when he was like this. Since the darkness he'd been so very determined to rid Atlantis of his mother. They didn't know where these omens were coming from but they hadn't been in a position to doubt the hero.

Reluctantly, they packed. Snuffing the fire out with rocks and dirt, and trying to remove all traces of their stay.

"Anyone would think you were in a hurry to get to Colchis Jason. Are you sure it's just the Golden Fleece you seek!" Ariadne snapped at her husband. He looked at the ground around his feet as he checked his sword and dagger. 

The accusation struck him like a blow. His confession of feelings for Medea had left a bitter taste in Ariadne's mouth, and he'd been waiting for this outburst since they had fled. He couldn't answer her, not truthfully at least. He took the torch from the prop on the ledge and headed on into the forest.

 

Across the sea, Medeas eyes opened. The candles in front of her had burned down over her offerings to Hecate. Her mind swam trying to compose her thoughts. It was no lie that the queens guard had renewed their efforts, but knowing that inevitably Jason would be brought to her sooner made her core ache. Parting from him in the forest before Pasiphae's death had torn her soul apart. Knowing he was coming to her, albeit for a different reason, made her heart sing. She was going to be sure he heard her song.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A glimpse into the draw between Jason and Medea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just found out today that they won't be continuing with Atlantis. So this has become the grown up version of how I think the series would have played out.

The return to Colchis had not been easy for Medea. Rumours were rife about her aunt; dead, not dead, possessed. The list was endless. Being touched by the gods made Medea just as feared, and so she had headed for the Colchean temple. She hesitated before knocking, hoping that she could eat and rest. She was weary, and ducking about the city was emotionally draining.

The door creaked and tired grey eyes framed by white hair met Medea's own sea green eyes. The steel grey softened instantly and the storm inside Medea calmed.

"Mannon!" Medea breathed as she rushed to take the older woman in her arms. Warmth and relief overtook her and she sobbed. Weeks, months of pent up frustration, heart break, hurt and pain transformed into wracking sobs. 

Mannon had known the young sorceress since she was small, before Pasiphae's inky dark wills and wishes had filled the veins of Medea's heart. There had been a time where Medea had been mannon's charge, though this was before Medea's third summer. Even then she had been a source of delight, singing tuneless songs and teasing the priests. Before it became apparent that the gods had imparted more than just life into her, Medea had been delicate. Interested in flowers and animals, she had once been on the path to joining the priestess. But then...well...then things had changed.

"Medea, when the rumours of Pasiphae reached us I thought you... I never believed...couldn't." The priestess had been fighting back tears but now they sprang free, leaving glistening trails down her cheeks. They sat, an unspoken bond between them, everything that needed to be said had been expressed. The two women sat, fingers entwined, catching their breaths and their sobbing slowed. 

Medea laughed. "After all this time Mannon, and here we are as though I'd scraped my knee." She wiped her face, and cleared her throat. 

"It's time, Mannon. He's coming."

\----------------

The docks were in sight, Jason knew the boat they were taking. He knew Hercules and Pythagoras would follow him to the four corners of the earth without him asking but Ariadne's eyes burned into his. If he tried he saw glimmers of affection that she had once shared with him but more often than not her eyes held the regal indifference she used for members of the court. 

He knew he could try to explain, to make her understand the bond he had with Medea. But then that would require him to know how explain it to himself. 

He hated Medea, she had almost killed Ariadne, been Pasiphae's aide. He hated her and yet she was there. Always there. In the forest, the games ring, and in his dreams. She always found him. It tugged on him, as though invisible strings on every part of him were tied to every part of her. At times he could swear he could hear her, feel her close to home, almost close enough for him to touch. How could he explain that, to his wife, when Medea was already in Colchis. He couldn't. So he spent most of their journey silent, listening to Hercules regale them with stories, reminiscing over medusa, and longing for wine. 

As they boarded the Argo, Jason filled his lungs with sea air and he felt the pressure of their task shift slightly off his shoulders. Hercules could command a ship, for now he wasn't in charge. His mind wandered, he knew the destination. He knew she would be waiting for him when he closed his eyes. He settled down into his hammock, and sang quietly to himself the song Hercules had been singing for parts of the journey.

"Where is the home for me? O Cyprus, set in the sea, Aphrodite’s home in the soft sea-foam, Would I lend to thee; Where in the wings of the Lovers are furled, And faint the heart of the world!"

 

\---------  
Approx 25 years ago.

Mannon looked at herself in the mirror, her hair tied loosely in a braid. Her ceremonial novice robes of grey covered her shoulders and her brooch portraying the god Helios emblazoned proudly on her chest. Today she got to watch the oracle make her newest prophecy, and to meet King Aeetes. 

She followed the high priest Aesop, into the inner sanctum of the temple. She watched in amazement as the young woman, daubed in sacrificial blood knelt before the altar. She prayed in a language that Mannon so far only had a grasp of. Her eyes rolled in her head.

King Aeetes stood impatiently. His indignant stance didn't not sit well with mannon's tutor and Aesop stood with his back turned, facing the oracle, in a small act of defiance. 

"Well?!" The Kings words broke the silence. 

The oracle turned to face him. 

"There is a man, a hero. He will be drawn to Colchis like a moth to a flame. He will do the bidding of Zeus and remove the usurper by force...."

"Yes yes, but what has that got to do with Colchis, with me?" Aeetes interjected.

"His flame will be your kin. He will come for her. He is touched by the gods and he will match her song with his until it shakes the foundations of Olympus itself."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> jasons journey takes one step closer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies if this is awful. I can't sleep and this is buzzing my brain.

Three weeks they had been at sea. Pythagoras was pawing at drawings of triangles, Hercules never strayed far from the helm of the Argo and Ariadne had taken to patching holes in sails and talking over the prophecies with the oracle. She'd become the oracles helper, making sure Cassandra could maintain some sense of normality with her religious duties.

Jason had taken to helping, learning what he could about sailing from Hercules. But the heat, the motion of the boat and the strained relationship he had with his wife at they moment had taken its toll on him, so he retreated into the shade of the cabin. Stretched out in the sailor hammock, he closed his eyes. It struck him then that it had been too long since Medea had felt close. Maybe it was the decreasing distance or maybe she was pulling away from him, but not knowing which made Jason uneasy. He cleared his thoughts, unsure of what he was about to do.

He pictured her in front of him, her braids undone letting her curled chestnut hair frame her face. The stormy blue grey of her eyes, the curve of her lip in that ever knowing smile that Jason felt was always mocking him. He focused on her freckles, and his heart skipped as his mind pictured her in robes of a princess instead of her usual warriors garb. The image in his mind felt so real, and he could taste her on his tongue. His senses relived the kisses they had shared, and the passion burned inside him. He could feel every pulse, every rush of blood and the wind rushing past his ears. In his mind Medea came closer, and he caught himself before he whispered her name out loud. Instead he summoned all his energy and thought it, testing the connection he knew they had.

"Medea? Medea can you hear me?" 

He sat and waited, not knowing how else to proceed. He want to talk aloud but knew that he'd likely be thrown overboard. 

He sighed, giving up on his notion of hearing her. He ghosted his minds hand around the image of her in his head. The oracle had said she would help him to find the Stygian fleece. And if he knew Medea, she was one step ahead.

He stood, shaking off his meditative state, and stood at the bow of the ship, hands gripping the rail. Ariadne sidled up next to him. She seemed softened by the sea air.

"Sing for me husband?" She mused, her voice light and delicate, a stark contrast to the cold hard look she's had held for him since his admission. He smiled, and sang loudly. Hoping if nothing else that this would distract him until he saw Medea again.  
\----------------

 

Across the sea Medea's dreamless sleep was lifting. A voice called to her. And whilst she slept she could swear that someone ran their hand over her, leaving a burning trail of goosebumps and a jolt of lightning through her body. She moaned, the suddenness of it took her surprise. She'd never been touched and only once been kissed. And now some invisible force was causing her breath to catch in her throat as she slept. 

And then nothing. It stopped as suddenly as it has started and she was left tingling, anticipating more sensations that wouldn't come. She stirred, undecided if she would allow herself to fully awaken or whether she would indulge herself in a few more moments rest in the warmth of the bed. 

Then a sweet melody, soothing her lulled her back into her relaxed state. She couldn't make out many of the words but the tone of it, the tune, although it seemed to have no true melody was enough to calm her heightened senses.

She stretched slightly, allowing her mind to empty all traces of her phantom sensations in a bid to relax completely and there he was. His bare chest glistened with sweat, his hair was damp and curly and his eyes were dark. A playful smile on his lips, and words....

No, not words. A song, the tune she had heard was coming from him. The realisation hit Medea hard. He was looking for her. Trying to reach her through his thoughts. Her heart started to ache as she tried to hear his words. Frustration hit her as the vision faded. She started to cry. She'd been so busy with Mannon in the temple she hadn't taken the time to see into his dreams and guide him. All she had managed was to ensure the Argo was still afloat, and on course for Colchis. Soon this would be redundant, she consoled herself. Soon he would be here with her and he would need her more than ever.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Medea can't sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Start of the smut side. Not entirely sure if this is heading in the right direction, so comments would be great if you approve/don't approve.

Medea couldn't sleep. The royal chamber she'd been given was similar enough to her room in Atlantis with Pasiphae, but there was something amiss. Apart from the desperate heat that was usual for a Colchean summer, there was no one thing bothering her that she could name. It all just felt wrong. 

She fidgeted about her bed trying to settle. The bed should have been comfortable but the cool sheets felt like stone. She sat up and surveyed her room as best she could in the dim candlelight. The paintings on her walls danced, giving life to the creatures they portrayed, the vases holding ferns and other long grass leaves casting shadows that sent spiralling patterns over the ceiling. Medea's eyes settled on a statue of Hecate, the goddess she served. She sighed. 

This was her life, as a princess of Colchis, the life she should have lived, and yet her heart ached in her chest. She laid back down, fretting in the sheets. The morning held rituals and meetings she was obliged to attend. Her father had sent her dresses she was to wear and her aides had been instructed to ensure she was dressed in garb more fitting of a princess. She scoffed to herself, knowing she'd rather turn up bare than in a dress of her fathers choosing, but then needs must. She needed to be accepted by the palace court, if she wanted to be part of the welcoming ceremony for Queen Ariadne. 

Her father believed she was finally accepting royal duties. The king didn't realise who Ariadne was bringing.

Her body burned at the thought of Jason. Unbearably hot as though she had climbed to near the sun. She touched her chest, her fingers sending shivers through her spine. Nervously she traced lines over her breasts down to her navel and her body shuddered in delight. 

Images of Jason filled her mind, the kiss they had shared, how he tasted on her tongue. The sensations had travelled lower on her body, emanating from between her legs. Her fingers teased the edge of her undergarments, her mind imagining Jason's hands instead of her own, as they stroked her soft curls and stroked her sex gently. 

It was almost enough as Medea brought her other hand to her cheek and stroked, remembering the way his hands had gripped her firmly. It lowered to her breast pinching a nipple, sending jolts of lightning to Medea's clitoris. She rubbed her fingers against it, and saw stars as it exploded with sensation. 

A few minutes passed, and Medea pulled her body out of her bed towards her basin. She lifted the jug and filled it with water, and splashed her hot flushed face. Somehow, the trials of the morning seemed less troubling, as though her intimate session has refocused her energies. Even wearing a gown from her fathers selection seemed a little less unbearable. 

She gazed from her window in the palace into the hot dark night, watching the city as it slept. Her heart sank a little in her chest again. The morning couldn't come soon enough. 

\--------------

Hercules had insisted they dropped anchor outside of the Colchean docks, enough of a distance along the coast that they could still make a quick departure if they had to. He was still very uneasy about approaching them for help, more specifically about Jason being alone with Medea.

"You just don't know her like I do" had been Jason's adamant albeit quiet argument. Statements like that had been proven to rile Ariadne, provoking her to screech at volumes to rival the harpies. 

The truth was that Hercules didn't want to know Medea like Jason did, nor did he want to know exactly how well that was. He was happy to go and find the fleece without her. 

"Who knows, that vicious witch could be worse than Pasiphae for all we know." Hercules had retorted. 

Jason didn't know when he unsheathed his knife, nor could he pinpoint when he put it to Hercules's throat. 

"Take it back. Take. It. Back" he spat. He ignored the look on Pythagoras's face, but lowered his weapon when Ariadne came over. Explaining this to Ariadne was bound to start another battle, and his patience had been wearing thinner the closer they had gotten to the Colchean border. 

"I'd say the damage was already done, lad." Hercules muttered as Jason skulked into the cabin alone again. Pythagoras scurried over once he was sure Jason was out of earshot.

"Are we sure that seeing Aeson was enough to clear the darkness? He seems to be slipping. Again." 

"No Pythagoras. It wasn't enough. He knows his mother caused all that hurt and tried to kill him. And I couldn't even put a sword through her properly. Let's just hope once this is over it all goes back to fairly normal." 

\------------- 

Inside the cabin, Jason threw himself into his corner, his head pounding. He just wanted to be on dry ground in the Colchean dock. He couldn't quite get it through to anyone that they were safe. He knew that the Colcheans weren't the enemy, why couldn't they see it. 

And then the arguments with Ariadne. They were toxic and draining, as though it was his fault he hadn't known his heritage. As though if he had known then they could have been wed sooner and this would have been the answer to everything. Somehow every argument ended up with it being his fault for everything that had happened, for the entire time she had known him. 

He raged internally trying to burn it out of his system in silent screams. He squeezed his eyes shut, holding back angry tears and his heart screamed for Medea. He searched his mind for her, knowing she had to be there. She had found him in the forest, headed him. She could feel his pain and right now he was in anguish. Medea had kissed him then, or had he kissed her? 

Right now he couldn't tell but the thought of her soft pink lips on his started to soothe the fire in his chest. He frantically sought for every memory he had of her being close. She smelt like fire and jasmine, tasted like cherries and wine. 

His heart stopped screaming against his rib cage, and settled into a call for her that pained him a little less. She had saved him so many times, and now she was saving him from himself without being there. His breathing steadied, and Jason was thankful the others had been on deck with the torches and that he was sat alone in the darkness. 

_You're never alone,_ a voice in his mind whispered back. _Medea, please, I need you,_ he urged.

 _I know my love, soon._ Her accent made the words sound like song to his ears and there was a sudden emptiness in his chest. he had no idea where she was, if she was safe. They had headed to Colchis at the behest of the oracle.

_I'm sorry. I should have come with you, Medea....are you ok, where are you?_

_Soon, Jason. All will be revealed soon. Sleep, rest. It's a long day tomorrow._

He sighed as the voice faded in his mind. He trusted her but how he wished he was able to see her. Jason tried to make himself comfortable in the corner. He tried to sleep, knowing morning would be upon him quicker that way. 

That night he dreamt of a song, and ravens in trees. His dream grew dark and glowing arrows pierced the heart of one of the ravens, throwing it to the ground. The song stopped, the haunting silence clouding over in a bright white light. 

He opened his eyes, to the sun beating down on the sea. Hercules had obviously woken early, as all around him was the hustle and bustle of busy dock life. They were finally in Colchis.


	5. Chapter 5

His eyes scanned the crowd as he secured his leather armour in place. The dockyard was busy but nobody seemed to pay them much attention which Jason was grateful for. Ariadne sought an audience with the king and making it there in one piece was their priority. 

Jason's dream weighed heavily on him as they left the docks. Whenever he saw Ravens normally he was excited, it meant it was a message from Medea, be it a warning or a guide or a reminder that she cared.

But this was alien, a nightmare more than a dream. Anxiety brewed in the pit of his stomach, and he realised no matter what the mission, he had to find Medea. The invisible strings he felt pulling on his heart were painful now they were within the city, and Jason took that to mean that she was closer. He prayed it meant she was closer.

The walk from the sea to king Aeetes palace felt like a marathon in itself, winding around narrow streets and dodging market stall traders. Hercules was ahead muttering about black markets offering all sorts of spells that would damn you to hades if uttered. 

Jason noticed that many of the Colcheans had stopped to stare at him, or possibly at the others. He knew it was him they stared at, maybe it was more obvious to people here that he was touched by the gods, but it was plausible enough that they watched the queen among them, or even Hercules the hero. He couldn't quite face the idea that they stared at him when he searched the crowds for those dark tousled curls.

The guards let them pass at the palace gates with no hesitation. Hercules rested his hand on the hilt of his sword, they'd expected at least some resistance, Aeetes was the brother of Pasiphae after all. Instead the high priest rushed out to greet them.

"Your majesty, Queen Ariadne, and her guests are gladly received by this court. The king sends his apologies, he is delayed with his daughter but he shall greet you presently. My name is Erastos, the high priest here and servant to Ares. Please, may I offer refreshments?" He was a weaselly looking man, thin with small eyes. But Jason hardly noticed.

Once they had stepped through the gates his heart and fought against his chest, desperate to be free. The pain it caused made him fight for breath. A million thoughts ran through his mind, his dream of the dying raven fuelling them. Pictures of Medea dead, tortured, injured, captured and all things in between made his head spin in circles and Jason swore he could die on the spot. 

Hercules glanced at Jason, catching him as he lost his footing. Jason struggled to breath with his hand in his chest. Erastos passed him a glass of wine and Jason took it with shaking hands. Only Ariadne stayed calm, but her eyes betrayed her inner panic. 

Ever the queen, Jason thought bitterly. He steadied himself against Hercules, the pain still intensifying inside him. Erastos coughed, clearing his throat and Jason looked up. And older man, greying at the temples, with rich red robes on had entered, a younger woman hidden beside him. Jason's heart stopped. The woman's hair cascaded around her framing her face, with delicate features. Dark eyes shine with a playful smile, as though she was taking delight in a delicious secret. She had a crimson gown, hanging in such a way that she could have rivalled Aphrodite, adorned with brooches.

"May I present his Royal Highness, King Aeetes of all Colchis, and his daughter, Princess Medea."

 

\---

 

She stepped out from behind her father and smiled. A wave of relief swept over her and she had to fight from running into Jason's arms. She could see the joy in his eyes, watched him fighting the same urge she had to be closer that the 20 paces that separated them.

"I believe you are acquainted with my daughter, though through my sister so I apologise." The king spoke, his voice deep and resonating. "Please, let us adjourn to a more comfortable setting." He gestured for the guests to follow, and they did so. Jason waited for Medea to lead, and followed quickly behind her.

"I barely recognised you," he whispered into her ear. She smiled as his voice sent shivers down her spine.

"And yet you look just the same." She mused back at him, her accent making him smile. Oh his smile. Medea had longed for a time where her voice could illicit such a response from him, and her heart skipped a beat. Her arm lingered on the wall and Jason took the opportunity to cover her hand with his. 

He was so warm, so close, and the ache in Medea's heart stilled, filled with a warming glow. It would be so easy to drag him off to some secluded part of the castle, to take him in her arms and never let him go. He looked deep into her eyes, and smirked.

"There'll be time enough for things like that later. We need to talk, alone. But not now."

She gulped and nodded. Her fingers trembled and he rubbed her knuckles with his thumb. She coughed, clearing her throat, and mind of thoughts that were so much more tempting.

"Later, in the temple. During the feast my father has planned. It'll be easy enough to slip away unseen." She stepped back and clasped her hands together. "Now, we had better join the others, else we'll be missed"

 

\---

Talks with Aeetes had already started when Medea and Jason entered. Jason matched Ariadne's cold stare as she followed him round to his seat. For all he knew she could have attacked, and she hadn't waited. He knew what she was thinking, and as if on cue, Medea shifted her robes as though they had been pulled out of place and took her place next to her father who was so far oblivious. 

Jason remained sentry at the back of the room, close to Hercules and Pythagoras. He raked his eyes over Medea's beauty before staring at the back of Ariadne's head. He might have been king by blood, but he didn't know much about royal treaties.

"I will mourn my sister, although she was lost to us a long time ago. She will never be the Pasiphae I remembered." 

He looked up at Jason, and smiled fondly. "You have her eyes." Jason looked at his feet, tears threatening in his eyes. Thinking of Pasiphae as his mother was too much to contemplate right now. 

"As I've said, the city of Colchis is open to you. Recuperate. Find what you need. Later we will feast." He stood, smiled warmly at the group and excused himself. He lingered in the doorway waiting for Medea.

"I'll be with you in a moment father." She turned her back briefly to dismiss the guards. Jason saw it happening in slow motion as Ariadne shed her cool demeanour, launching herself at the princess's throat. Medea's eyes flashed red as she muttered under her breath and Jason found himself shielding her as Ariadne was thrown back across the room.

Medea pressed her hand against the small of his back, and Jason felt her love spreading through her touch. When he chanced a look at Ariadne though was of pure hatred.

"Apparently I need to remind you, _husband,_ that she tried to kill me."

"And you seem to have forgotten how many times she's saved me, and that this is her palace and more importantly we cannot stop Pasiphae and regain your thrown without her." He spat back, not moving from his protective stance in front of Medea. 

"Come on now jason, we should probably discuss what we need for the Argo." Hercules interjected, trying miserably to ease the tension. 

"I didn't expect forgiveness your highness, but I hope you'll understand that I'm a different person now." Medea spoke softly from behind Jason. There was silence as Ariadne's brushed down her gown and Medea stepped forward. 

Ariadne surveyed the princess of Colchis with a look that could kill. She motioned to Hercules and Pythagoras out of the room. Jason longed to stay with Medea, he could feel his heart and mind trying to pull him into her embrace. He took one last look at her, and they both shared the same thought.

"Soon."


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The heroes are in Colchis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's taking a while to get this where I want it to go, so might end up being much longer than first planned.

They settled in the guest quarters king Aeetes had provided, Ariadne still seething from Medea's attack and her husbands betrayal. He might as well have taken Medea on the floor in front of the entire court, the pain it had caused her. She sank into a chair and cried. Pythagoras knelt down, comforting her as best he could. 

"I know it's hard, your majesty, but when the darkness took him, she was there. He's still finding himself in all this. He's the true heir to the throne, he ordered his mothers execution, and watched her come back to life. It's hard for us, it must be harder for him."

Ariadne smiled weakly through her tears. "I don't think I can compete with her as well as all of this." 

\---

Jason listened from the hallway outside the guest chambers. He hadn't intended to linger outside but he heard Ariadne crying and hadn't been able to face her. He had loved her so much, so intensely, but he begin to explain couldn't explain the differences between his feelings for Ariadne and Medea. Two beautiful women for whom his feelings were very different but equally intense, but listening to Ariadne crying didn't fill him with the same dread as when he feared Medea had been injured. He sighed, leaning back against the supportive stone wall.

His reverie was broken by Erastos, coughing to mark his entrance at the end of the hall.

"Apologies for disturbing you, sire, but the king has instructed me to take you to his dresser. He apologises but he feels that a son of the royal house of Colchis should dress accordingly."

Jason reached down to his battle worn clothes. He didn't go anywhere without his leather chest plate, but as the son of a king, even if he'd only found out recently, he did agree to an extent.

He forced a smile. "What did he have in mind?"

\----

"It's not me," Jason protested, looking over his shoulder at his friends.

"I disagree, it's very regal," giggled Hercules. Pythagoras smiled too, "It is, it's also very, um...red." 

Jason looked back at his reflection in the mirror. Pythagoras had a point. Gone were the blue shades of the Atlantean court, and in their place was a rich blood red fastened at his shoulder. He had negotiated his leather armour into his outfit, but underneath was a long shirt made of a find fabric Jason didn't recognise and new leather sandals. Leather gauntlets adorned his arms and Jason looked every bit the prince of Colchis.

The longer he looked, the less Hercules could control himself. He guffawed out loud. 

"You arrived in Atlantis naked as a new born babe, on the beach, walked into the city in clothes you found on the beach and now look at you. Prince of bloody Colchis my arse."

Erastos coughed again, more robes folded over his arms. "This is no laughing matter gentlemen. Royal families have an image to portray. Speaking of which..." He held out the robes he had, which were of a darker red almost brown colour with white undershirts. 

"Oh no, you won't catch me in any fancy robes." Hercules protested. 

"Well if you are denying your place on Jason's counsel, you will no longer be invited to the feast, and will be asked to leave the court." Erastos sneered. The look on Hercules's face fell. The decision to be forced from Jason's side was almost as devastating as being barred from the feast. 

"Fine. I'm not happy about it." Hercules snatched the robes, and passed a set to Pythagoras. "But only because he can't be left by himself. He'd get into far too much trouble."

Jason and Pythagoras shared a look and laughed. 

"Erastos, could you not call me the prince of Colchis tonight?"

"But sire!"

"I am Jason, son of King Aeson. Therefore I am King Jason of Atlantis, if I have to be anything." 

"I shall have to confer with his highness, I'm afraid. But I shall try to honour your wishes, sire."

Jason nodded, he understood what he was asking of Erastos was a lot for a member of the Colchean court. He was effectively denying his Colchean heritage, without actually renouncing it. 

"Well, I think we should head back to Ariadne. We should enter the feast together." Even as he said the words, he knew he didn't believe them. This entire evening was a political ploy, plotting to find a way to finally be rid of Pasiphae. 

\--------------

The feast was Jason's every worst nightmare. Politicians and royal emissaries, all clamouring over Ariadne and himself. They had found Ariadne a sapphire blue gown and Jason realised that in their royal attire they were polar opposites. He wondered if Erastos had purposely done this to further drive the wedge between himself and his wife. 

He wondered who in the room knew, of his connection to Medea, although the point was soon to become moot. He couldn't help himself from stealing glances at her, finding his skin flushed to match his robes when their eyes met across the crowded banquet hall. 

The king stood and commanded silence, and an eerie hush fell over the room. 

"What feast would be complete, without a little light entertainment?"

The lights dimmed, and dancers span into the room. The music lifted Jason's spirit and he felt the familiar tug on his heart. He looked off to the doorway, and saw Medea's retreating figure. He coughed and nudged Hercules to his side, 

"I'm going outside to clear my head, too much wine." It was a plausible enough explanation, the wine was flowing freely. He pushed back his chair and made his way after Medea.

The temple was dark, all the priests and novices had been sent to prepare for the coming festivities. Medea giggled and the sound echoed around the vast empty hall like an Angels chorus. Jason felt giddy at the sound. Like a pair of lovesick teenagers, they peered around columns playfully. Jason grabbed Medea's hand when it was in reach and pulled her into his embrace. 

He held her tightly to his chest, leaning against a column for support. This closeness had been all he'd needed. He could feel her love for him in the way her hands gripped his robes, the way she nestled her head onto his chest. He took in a deep breath and his senses were flooded with the scent of her, of incense and jasmine and of something he couldn't put into words but that he knew was her scent.

It was too much to bear, he loosened his arms from around her and cupped his hands to her face. He tilted her head up to his, looking into the her dark eyes that looked like a calm ocean at midnight. He wanted to kiss her, he wanted to kiss her in such a way that erased the awkwardness of their last kiss in the forest. In a way that erases the hurt Pasiphae had caused to them both.

He leant down, tentatively pressing his lips to hers. The kiss started very sweet but as the fire of Jason's passion spread into Medea, his fingers wound themselves into her hair and pulled her closer. The kisses became deeper, both Jason and Medea losing the control they'd been trying to hold onto. 

Jason turned, pushing Medea up against the column. He ran his hands down her sides and pulled her hips to his, listening to her moaning as he pressed his manhood against her sex. He knew that if they weren't careful, they would be caught, but the temptation to shed her of the robes she wore was starting to drive him wild.

"They're going to miss us soon," she breathed. The feeling of her breath against his ear made him groan, and it was all Jason could do not to listen to his lust. 

"I know, you're right."   
"Shall we head back?"  
"Id rather stay here. Let them find us."  
"You don't mean that Jason. We'll have our moment."

She pulled apart from him reluctantly, leading him back to the feast slowly. He looked at her, watching the way her robes swirled around her. He felt as though it was a dream.

They returned to find they had missed the dancers, but the commotion caused by their departure allowed them both to slip back into their seats somewhat unnoticed. 

"And now, I've been told rumour, that my comrade Jason has a voice fine and strong." King Aeetes announced. Jason stared at him wide eyed, knowing this was the Kings way of acknowledging his absence. His face burned red. He stood, and cleared his throat. 

"It's no rumour, sire. I'm not sure this is the best setting though."  
"Nonsense, come, let us hear you sing."  
Shouts of approval from other nobles, including encouragement from Hercules, who was showing signs he'd had too much wine. Jason frowned, with everyone's eyes on him he couldn't think. 

He closed his eyes and sighed. His heart pounded about his ears, and a song entered his mind. He chanced a look in Medea's direction and saw her focused in a daze. He opened his mouth, and sang. 

"She is one girl, there is no one like her.  
She is more beautiful than any other.  
Look, she is like a star goddess arising at the beginning of a happy new year;  
brilliantly white, bright skinned; with beautiful eyes for looking, with sweet lips for speaking;  
With a long neck and white breast,  
her hair of genuine lapis lazuli;  
her arm more brilliant than gold;  
her fingers like lotus flowers,  
She has captured my heart in her embrace.  
One looks at her passing by,  
this one, the unique one."


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A change of circumstance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little bridging chapter, as a way of not killing anyone off (or not killing anyone off yet, who knows) and features some out of character points.

Ariadne's head swam. She had lost track of wine early on in the evening, people had ensured her goblet had stayed full at all times and frankly she had been grateful for the distraction it provided. 

She had seen the way that he had been dressed, as an entity entirely separate from her. Separate from Atlantis. And dressed to match the witch. Medea. Ariadne stopped. There was a taste in her mouth she did not recognise.

She headed toward the chambers King Aeetes had provided, grateful that Jason had stayed talking to the other diplomats after his little performance. She tried to pretend the beautiful love song he had just sung was for her, but the wine spoke to her. It was an evil little voice, speaking directly to her fears.

_"You know he doesn't love you. He loves his Colchean witch. They matched, did you notice? The matching brooch, matching red robes?"_

Ariadne hadn't noticed. And now alone in her chambers she sobbed, her heart broken into shards. She had put her faith in Jason, trusted him, married him. And he was the legitimate heir to the throne, as the son of Aeson. She was the usurper for all intents and purposes. 

She picked up a vase and threw it against a wall; half laughing, half sobbing at the noise it made as it shattered into a thousand pieces. She wasn't going to be cast aside by Jason without a fight.

Her mind swirled with wine and rage, thinking of how she could meet her new agenda. A wicked smile spread across her face, and she laughed loudly. She knew what she had to do.

She pulled a cloak around her, and took a piece of parchment, scrawling a letter on it as quickly as she could in her slightly drink muddled state. She left the palace through the kitchens, passing the letter to a maid with coinage to ensure its delivery.

Once beyond the palace grounds, she looked back, burning anger bubbling away inside her. If she wanted to stay in power then allegiances had to be made.

And Medea had to die.


End file.
